Roots of the Maple Tree
by Lailinia
Summary: When Matthew is confronted by the shadows of his past he must choose between the family that has always ignored him or the family that he left behind almost six centuries ago. PruCan, AmeCan, RusCan, and Franada possibilities :D
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Matthew squinted his eyes against the cold wind that roared angrily through the mountains. He was climbing Mount Logan. With a summit of 19,551 feet above sea level, it was the tallest mountain in the country that would be called Canada, as well as the second tallest in the soon to be discovered North America. Matthew had embarked on a spirit quest 15 days before and was finally near his destination.

The sky was clear and was flooded by the Aurora Borealis, the Northern Lights. Vibrant pinks and greens and purples glided through the starry sky creating a beautiful light show. Matthew would stop occasionally to gaze at its magnificence, but only for a short time. He had to reach the summit before the moon reached the its apex. As of that moment he had about 15 minutes to reach it.

He looked down at his polar bear, Kumajirou, who was asleep in his arms. His white form rose and fell peacefully, as if they were back home, not at death's door. They were on a ridge with only six inches of foot-room, and below was nothing but a long drop to jagged rocks. Matthew placed his feet carefully on the icy surface; one wrong move would send both him and the bear to a bitter and bloody end. Matthew hugged Kumajirou closer to his chest. The bear had been with him since before he could remember, since before any of the Native Families. He could not lose him to the mountain.

The bitter wind cut mercilessly through his buckskin clothes, freezing him to the bone. It hurt a lot, but Matthew knew that he could not let his people down. He was past the ridge and was trudging through the snow, his boots sinking in with every step. It seeped through the shoes, sending a sharp pain into his toes. It felt like thousands of tiny daggers were jabbing at his skin. He grimaced and grabbed hold of a rock that protruded out of the glimmering snow. The Aurora Borealis reflected off the ice, almost as if it was painting a picture. Matthew gripped the rock in his hand and looked up, seeing the peek only minutes away. He smiled, or at least tried to, and pushed on. "Just one foot in front of the other," he whispered to himself.

Soon he had reached the final part of his challenge, which was to scale the almost 90 degree peak. Grasping the hand holes, he pulled himself down. He continued to climb and was almost there when-

"Hey, Mattie!" a voice shook the mountain. Matthew struggled to hang on. "Bro, its time to get up! You're my ride back to the hotel, remember?" Matthew's hand slipped. He screamed as he plummeted off the rock. "Whoa Mattie! Hey!"

Matthew's eyes shot open. His brother, Alfred was crouching over him with a concerned look in his eyes. "Dude, are you okay? You were, like, doing a weird whisper-screaming-thing and flailing around," he smiled, "It was actually kinda cool."

"Uh, yeah. Just a…bad dream, I guess. Sorry," Matthew said shaking his head. He must have fallen asleep during the World Conference and dreamt of his spirit quest back when he wasn't a country yet. Back when he was with his Native Family. He had been so close to knowing the answer. So damn close. Why did Alfred have to ruin it? Why did Alfred have to ruin everything?

"Don't worry about it. So, you think you can take me to the hotel now?" Alfred asked, smiling.

Any feeling of anger disintegrated. Though America was a total pain in the neck, you could never stay mad at him. Well, at least Matthew couldn't. "Uh, yeah." Matthew pulled himself up. He straightened his shirt and fixed his glasses when he realized something was missing.

"Have you seen Kumakitchi, by any chance?" he asked.

"Uh, who?" Alfred asked.

"You know… my bear?" he said. In his mind he thought, _the only one that actually needs me. _

"You mean the polar bear digging through the trash?" America pointed to the trashcan that had mysteriously grown legs.

Canada sighed in relief and ran to his friend. He pulled the metal basket off of the bear's head and asked, "Hey, what were you doing in there?"

The bear looked up at him with his black eyes and replied, "Yummy fish," he licked his chops and eyed the Canadian, "Who are you?"

Matthew sighed, "Canada. Now let's go, we have to get Alfred home."

The bear nodded and jumped into his arms. Matthew walked over to his brother who was chatting with a little boy in a sailor outfit.

"Yeah, so I'm the hero around here. I've saved Britain's ass plenty of times, he just doesn't like to admit it," the taller country announced.

"Really? I hope someday I'll be big just like you!" the kid yelled. Matthew recognized him. He was Sealand, a tiny naval fort near Britain that had declared its independence. It was really small, so nobody had recognized him as a country yet.

"Don't worry kid, you'll turn out great!" America placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"You really think so? Thank you very much! I have to go now but I'll never forget you, America!" the boy shouted as he bounded off through the door and out into the streets of London, where the conference was being held. Matthew tapped his brother on the shoulder.

Alfred spun around and looked at him. He cocked his head to the side and said, "Who are you?"

Matthew rolled his eyes. This happened every time he tried to talk to his brother. "Your brother. Matthew." America furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "You know, Canada? Maple syrup, hockey, polar bears?" he held out Kumajirou.

"Um..." America thought for a few seconds and then smiled. "Yeah, Canada! Mattie!" he punched his brother on the arm, "Yeah dude, I was just kidding about that," he laughed awkwardly.

Canada laughed too. "Yeah…" Although he rarely showed it, it really hurt when people forgot his name. He was the second biggest country, which had to count for something, right?

After a moment of uncomfortableness, Alfred finally said, "Yeah, so can you take me home now?"

**~A.N.~ Hi! Roots of the Maple Tree is my first real fan fiction ever :D Hopefully it was decent... I'd really appreciate any constructive criticism, so if you happen to see anything that that doesn't really flow right or make sense please tell me! Hope you liked it and chapter two will be here soon :3**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The car ride was silent for the most part. Canada drove and America looked out the window. Kumajirou sat in the back glaring at Alfred because he had taken his seat. Finally they reached the hotel that England had booked for all of the countries.

Once they got out of the car, Alfred bit his lip and said, "So, Iggy's having a party on Friday at his place and I think you should come."

Matthew's heart skipped a beat. Did Alfred actually say he thought he should come? Well that's a first. "Really? Why?"

Alfred blushed a little and said, "I don't know. I guess because we haven't really talked in a while and I never see you around…."

"Oh-okay. Do you know who else is going to be there?" Canada asked. He was shocked that Alfred actually wanted to catch up with him, though in his heart he knew that nothing of the sort would happen at the party. Alfred had better people to talk to than his scrawny brother.

"Well, me, Francis, Ivan, Wang, Ludwig, Feliciano, Honda, Lovino, Rodrich-"

"S-so basically the whole world," Canada leaned against the car.

The American looked at him blankly for a moment and then his face lit up, "Oh I get it! Hahaha good one, bro! Yeah, I think so. Well, I mean, not if you're not there…" he looked at Canada hopefully.

Matthew thought, _It'll only be a waste of my time. I mean, no one will no who I am and that's if they do happen to notice me. _He looked at his brother's pleading face. His heart practically melted. How could he say no to those imploring eyes? But… No it wasn't about him. Although America was a little forgetful, he was still his brother. America deserved to be happy, and even though he hated to admit it, America was a hero. He stood for independence and justice, he stood up for Canada if need be, and he never ever meant to hurt Matthew like he did everyday. No, Alfred deserved to be happy. "Fine, I'll go."

America grinned, "Really, dude? You're so awesome!" He ran over and tackled Canada in a bear hug, "Thanks, bro." Matthew could hardly breath.

"You're-" he gasped, "welcome." America's strong arms crushed him, but it actually felt kind of nice. Alfred hadn't shown any sort of affection toward his brother (besides pegging him with baseballs and "playful" punches on the arm) in a very long time. He didn't want it to stop. He didn't want America to let go of him. He wanted the moment to last forever.

But it didn't. America pulled away and beamed. His blue eyes sparkled and thanked Matthew again. "So, I'll see you Friday night, 8:00?"

Matthew smiled shyly and nodded, "Definitely."

"Awesome. Catch ya later!" America pronounced as he walked to his hotel. He turned around once he reached the door and waved.

Canada waved back and whispered, "Bye," as he watched his brother enter the glass doorway of the hotel. Matthew sighed and opened the backdoor of the car. Kumajirou looked at him emotionless and asked, "That your boyfriend?"

Canada's eyes widened in surprise and had to force the urge to strike the bear away. "No! No, Alfred's my _brother!_ Never would I in a million years even _dream _about dating him!" It wasn't a complete lie. Matthew's mind occasionally wandered in a place where he and his brother were in love, but only when he was having an extremely intense daydreaming session. Alfred was an asshole. Sure, he was a hero at times, but mostly he was just unbearably annoying, and violent, and funny, and se-… No, Alfred was not a good fit for him. Matthew was better than that. Surely there was someone out there who could at least remember his name, right?

Matthew scooped the polar bear up and walked towards the hotel. The countries had the pleasure of staying at the Landmark London Hotel, one of London's most luxurious hotels. When Matthew first saw it he thought it was some sort of museum. It had a huge clock tower in the center and was surrounded by a beautiful garden.

Once Matthew entered the lobby, understood why it was rated five stars. A huge marble fountain was at the center of a large room with golden walls and shiny wooden floors and carpets with intercut designs from all over the world. Paintings of what looked like historical British events covered the walls.

Canada walked to the registration desk where a tall balding man with a mustache was typing away on a computer. "Um, excuse me?" he said. The man made no indication that he heard the Canadian, so he tried again, this time using his "outside voice". "Excuse me, sir!" Nothing. Matthew rolled his eyes. Was he really that quiet? He kept on trying and trying until finally a woman tapped him on the shoulder.

"Um, pardon me, but are you in line?" she asked with a heavy Norwegian accent. She was a short plump woman who had way too much makeup caked on. Her lips were bright red and blue eye shadow had somehow made its way from her eyelid all the way past the eyebrow. She wore a fur coat (which instantly angered Matthew because of his connection with nature) and had her paunchy feet stuffed into red high heels possibly three sizes too small.

"Uh, yes. I-I just can't seem to-" Matthew stuttered but then was cut off.

"Speak up! You won't get anywhere if you just mumble everything! Now are you in line or not?" the lady said with rising irritation.

"Yes, I am in line!" Matthew yelled as loud as he could. The woman looked at him with disgust.

"Excuse me? Can you speak at all?" she shouted, her face getting red. "JUST ANSWER MY DAMN QUESTION! ARE YOU IN LINE OR NOT?" Fire started to poured out of her mouth. She was getting bigger turning a bright red. Scales started to sprout out of her skin. Wings burst out of her back as she began to fly.

Matthew fell to the ground and wrapped his arms around his knees, tears streaming down his face. "Yes, yes I'm in line! Please stop!" he whimpered. The dragon lady struck his face. The Canadian gasped in pain and held a hand to the wound. When he pulled it away blood stained his fingers.

"I didn't hear that, boy. Who the hell are you anyway? Ah, yes I remember. Old Leify discovered you with his great Viking ships. You're, let's see, America? No, no, you're much to scrawny and weak," a ghastly grin crossed her face. "I bet I could snap you in half right now. Rip out those nice bones, on by one. Oh, yes, I can tear the bone right out of your flesh." She cackled. Bloody ribbons of flesh were lodged in between her fangs, "I could use a tooth pick!" She reached down a clawed hand toward his torso.

"NO!" Matthew screamed. He held up his hands and scrunched his eyes closed.

**A.N.~~ Hey guys! I honestly can't believe that I have nearly a hundred views already! Anyway thanks soooo much for reading :D**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

"NO!" Matthew screamed. He held up his hands and scrunched his eyes closed. When he opened them, the dragon lady was gone. Matthew was on the ground still with his arms protecting his face. Tears trickled down his cheeks. He felt his cheek. There was no pain at all. He looked around at the people in the lobby. None of them noticed him. How could they not notice someone crying on the ground? Well then again, he was Canada. No one cared about Canada. Not even…

"Hey, Birdie, what are you doing on the ground?" a familiar voice called from across the room. Matthew looked up and saw a tall albino running towards him. Prussia.

"Oh, uh, h-hi, Prussia," he said as the Prussian held out his hand to the Canadian. This was one of the rare incidences where someone who was totally unrelated to Canada in any way could actually perceive Matthew. Prussia knew Matthew through maple syrup. Every holiday, Canada would make an effort to give all the countries a bottle of maple syrup. Though most countries had no idea where it had come from, a few were generous enough to say a "thank you" at the next World Conference, Prussia being one of them.

Matthew grasped onto Prussia's hand and was pulled up. "Thank you," he murmured.

"Yep! So how totally unawesome the conference was today, ja?" Prussia laughed, "I think I even saw you sleeping, kesesese."

Matthew's face turned bright red, "Y-you did?"

"Ja. Don't worry you didn't miss much. Basically, England and France got in a fight, then the awesome me joined in because I was getting bored, and then your stupid brother started trying to break up the fight saying that he was the hero or whatever, and then I guess West got fed up with us and yelled shit about 'order' and stuff." The Prussian explained whilst making elaborate gestures with his hands. The remark about America stung a little, but Matthew brushed it off. It was no secret that Prussia and America were not on the best of terms.

The Canadian smiled shyly and said, "So it was like every other meeting we've had in the last century?"

Prussia grinned, "Exactly the same. Now, are you checking in or what?"

Matthew blushed a little, remembering his disturbing daymare and frowned. What could a dragon have to do with anything? She had said something about Vikings… what did it mean? "Uh, yeah. I was just about to."

Prussia raised an eyebrow and said, "And that's why you were on the ground?"

Matthew's face flushed a dark red, "I-"

Prussia chuckled, "I was kidding! Kesesese, " he ruffled the Canadian's hair, "You're so cute sometimes, Birdie. Now let's get checked in!"

Prussia dragged a red Matthew over to the registration table. "Hey, we're checking in. We have registrations," Prussia said to the tall balding man at the counter.

The man nodded, "Welcome to the Landmark London Hotel. May I ask for your names?"

Prussia answered, "I'm Gilbert Beilshmidt and this is…" he looked over at Canada again and asked, "What's your name again?"

Canada sighed, "Matthew Williams." He knew that it was too good to be true. Granted, he hadn't ever told Gilbert his full name.

"And Matthew Williams." The Prussian finished. He sent a sideways smile at the Canadian as the man retrieved their keys.

"You are both on the fifth floor. Mr. Beilshmidt, you're 432 and Mr. Williams, you're 437. Good day, gentlemen," the man handed them their keys and went on to help the next in line.

"How awesome is this! We're on the same floor!" Prussia nudged the Canadian with his elbow. "I just hope I don't have to share a room with West like last time. That would suck!"

Matthew nodded and said, "Well, I-I have to go get my stuff from my car. I'll see you later, eh?"

"Ja. Oh yeah, and are you going to England's party on Friday?" Prussia asked.

"Wouldn't miss it," Canada smiled shyly.

"Awesome! See ya around, Birdie!" Prussia called as he ran to the elevator. Matthew waved as he made his way back to the car. He opened the trunk and took out his red suitcase. With one hand (he was holding Kumajirou in his other), he pulled out the handle and wheeled it back to the hotel. Key in hand, he went up the elevator to the fourth floor and walked to his room, 437.

Just down the hall he could hear what sounded like Germany yelling at Italy to get out of his room. Seconds later, he heard Italy crying about how he couldn't find his own room and how he needed help. Matthew smiled. Even though he had never talked to either of them, he really liked them together. Although Germany would never admit it, everyone knew that they were together. Of course, Italy told everyone how they were "bffs" and all of they're adventures, which mostly consisted of Germany rescuing Italy from the Allies back in World War Two.

Matthew grimaced at the thought. World War Two. The worst war for them all. So many memories… So much death… Despite the constant warring of nations, none of them truly hated each other. Under all the rivalries and conflicts, they were a family. Even if some of them were ignored.

Canada turned the key and opened the door of his hotel room. "Wow" he murmured. To say the room was huge would be an understatement. It wasn't even a room; it was more like a large expensive-looking apartment. The décor was modern: gray-blue walls, black carpets, stainless steel kitchen amenities (which would be great for cooking pancakes), a master bedroom with an on suite (bathroom), a second bedroom, and a large balcony. The living room had a black couch, two black chairs, and a 42-inch mounted flat screen TV. Abstract paintings hung everywhere, which made Matthew feel like he was in an art exhibit. Everything was so nice, he wondered where Arthur had gotten the money for all of this. Did all the other countries have rooms like these?

Matthew plopped down onto the couch, setting Kumajirou beside him, and turned on the TV. He flipped through the channels, trying to find a good hockey match to watch, but no such luck. Instead, he settled for a show on global warming. Yes, there were probably more entertaining things to watch, but the issue really worried him. The arctic was his home, and it was melting. The TV program talked about the hole in the ozone and melting icebergs. When it showed polar bears and their fate, he turned off the TV. He sat motionless for a few minutes and then broke down in tears. It wasn't fair. Why did he have to screw everything up? Sometimes Matthew wondered if Alfred remembered when they weren't even countries yet, when they would live with the Native Families? They didn't need industry and technology to be happy. Now all Alfred cared about was video games and mass production. Granted, Matthew did admit that life with technology was easier, but at what cost? Was being able to use a microwave to warm up a cheap TV dinner really worth the Arctic melting?

Matthew shook the matter from his mind. He wasn't supposed to be thinking politically now. That was for when he was back home or at a World Conference meeting. Now was a time for relaxation. He sighed and looked at Kumajirou. "What do you want to do?" he asked.

The bear thought for a moment and then answered, "Hungry."

Matthew rolled his eyes and got up from the couch. "Fine, we can go try to find something." He picked up the bear and headed out into London.

**A.N.~~ Hi! So how am I doing so far? Ahahaha I had a lot of fun writing as Prussia... Anyways thanks for reading and the next couple of chapters will be out soon :3**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Matthew was just outside the hotel on his way to find some food for Kumajirou when suddenly he remembered that he had no idea where anything was. "I guess I'll have to ask Britain," he thought to himself. He pulled his phone out and dialed Britain's number. He placed the phone to his ear and waited for the Englishman to pick up. Part of him hoped that he wouldn't. Britain was one of those countries that should remember who Canada was but didn't. A long time ago, he had looked up to Britain as a role model. He and France had fought a war over him. Canada helped Britain in countless battles during World War One and Two. You'd think that someone who was once king of the sea would remember one of his once most loyal allies. But since when was Canada memorable?

After two rings England picked up the phone. "Hello, Arthur speaking. May I ask who's calling?"

Matthew cleared his throat and said as loud as he could without screaming, "Uh, hi, Arthur, it's Matthew. I was just wondering-"

"I'm sorry, Matthew who?" Britain asked tiredly. It must have been a long conference for him too.

"Williams. Matthew Williams. I'm Canada? Alfred's brother?" Matthew tried desperately to avoid five minutes of reintroducing himself.

"Canada? Who the hell's Canada?" Matthew's face fell. Go figure.

"You know, hockey, polar bears, snow…?"

"Right, hold on," Arthur turned away from the phone and called "Francis! Do you know a Canada by any chance?" He put his ear back onto the phone, "Terribly sorry, sir, just one minute."

Matthew could hear through the other end running footsteps and Britain and France talking. "Francis, someone named Matthew Williams who claims he's something called Canada is on the telephone, do you know him?"

Canada heard the Frenchman gasp and say, "Oh, Matthieu! Give me the phone!" Arthur sighed and handed the telephone to Francis. "Bonjour, Matthieu! Comment tu m'as manqué!"

Matthew stuttered, "H-hello, Papa. Je vous ai manqué aussi." It felt nice to speak French again. He hadn't spoken in it in so long since he'd been too busy to visit Québec. In fact, he hadn't had time to visit any of provinces and territories in a long time (besides Ontario, but he was holed up in the capital Ottawa there).

"I knew you would! So why are you calling this English bastard?" France asked. Arthur yelled in the background, "I'm not a bastard, frog!" Francis answered, "Ohonhonhon yes you are. Now let me talk to Matthieu."

Matthew faltered a little and said, "I j-just needed to know where a grocery s-store is."

"Is that so? Well, mon cheri, I can most certainly help you! I was just about to go shopping! Maybe afterwards we can go out for a nice dinner, although I doubt Britain has any food that's remotely as delectable as mine, honhonhon."

Matthew frowned a little at the dinner part. Last time he and France had dinner together, things got a little…out of hand. But how could he say no to his Papa? "Uh, s-sounds great. I-I'm at the hotel right now."

"Well then, I'll be right over! Au revoir!" France said wistfully. Britain yelled in the background, "Now can you tell me who the hell Canada is?"

Matthew whispered a farewell and shut the phone off. He wondered why out of all the countries, France remembered him the most. Yes, he knew that Canada was initially a French territory, but he was with Britain for a longer period of time. In fact he had been a British Commonwealth until the 1960's; and yet the Englishman had forgotten all about him.

Fifteen minutes later, a red convertible pulled up at the hotel where Canada sat on a bench thinking about his nonexistent relationships with the countries. France smirked and yelled, "Well don't just sit there, come on!" He was wearing a simple white button down shirt with a few of the buttons undone, black pants and dark sunglasses. Canada had to admit, his older brother did look good.

Matthew smiled a little and climbed in the seat beside France. "Hi, Papa."

Francis grinned and ruffled the Canadian's hair. "Hello, Matthieu. So you say you need to find a grocery store?"

Matthew nodded, "Yes, my polar bear, Kumakun, needs something to eat."

France started the engine. "I never understood your love of polar bears, mon cheri," he said as he backed out onto the street, "I've always been more of a bird person, myself." As if on cue, Pierre (France's bird) popped his head out of a cup holder. He chirped and France patted his head. "Bonjour, Pierre! I haven't seen you in so long! Say hi to mon petit frère, Matthieu." The bird looked at the Canadian chirped happily and fluttered onto his head.

Matthew blushed and looked up, "Oh, hey, little guy." He had always had a way with animals. Sometimes it seemed that they were the only ones who would consistently remember him (with the exception of Kumajirou, of course).

Francis glanced over from the road and smiled, "He likes you." Pierre nibbled at Matthew's hair. The Frenchman chuckled, "He _really _likes you." A small smile began to climb up Matthew's face. This felt…nice. And then… "Probably because you have sexy hair like mine!" Francis had to make it weird.

Matthew's smile faltered a little, "Uh, yeah…thanks?" The bird had begun to nestle into his hair, twirling in circles like a dog.

"Ohonhonhonhon, you are most certainly welcome!" Francis laughed and casually swung an arm across Canada's shoulder. "I just got an idea," Francis's voice suddenly dripped with seductiveness, his hand idly playing with Canada's hair, "How about we skip the groceries and you come to my room where I can make you a luxurious dinner of _truite sauté sauce amere_, and then we can... chat over a glass of wine?"

Matthew tensed at his older brother's touch, "I… uh…" On one hand, he would be alone in a hotel room with a pervy Frenchman that would most likely resolve in some sort of making love. On the other hand, _truite sauteé sauce amere _was one of his favorite French dishes, it was trout so Kumajirou could have some of the leftovers, and he didn't have anything better to do anyways. "Th-that sounds great, France."

The Frenchman squeezed the Canadian's shoulder and smiled, "Merci, mon cheri, merci. We're going to have so much fun!"

**A.N.~~ Hi guys! Sorry it's taken me a long time to get the new chapter up... and sorry it's kinda short... ya know with homework and stuff its been stressful... Anyway so France has made his debut in my story XD! He's so funny. Thanks for reading :3**

**Translations:  
**

**Comment tu m'as manqué: How I've missed you  
**

**Je vous ai manqué aussi: I've missed you too  
**

**Mon petit frère: My little friend  
**

**Merci: Thank you  
**

**Mon cheri: My dear  
**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Back at the apartment, Canada and France were enjoying a brilliant dinner of sautéed trout and raspberry butter sauce (truite sauteé sauce amere). They discussed their countries' various dramas, well it was more like France complained about England and Germany while Matthew nodded and smiled occasionally. In the corner Kumajirou happily gulped down the generous amount of trout that Francis had spared for him.

After dinner they sat on the chairs in the living area. France had gotten out a bottle of 1952 _Chateau Mont-Redon_, one of France's finest wines. Francis poured them each a glass saying, "You know, the family that used to own this vineyard were the Mathieu's. I knew them very well. You see, whenever I went to the Mediterranean area of my country, I'd always stop by for a glass. The Mathieu's were wonderful people. They always let me in, even though I was a drunken horny mess," he smiled sadly, "When you were discovered, you reminded so much of them, the way you smiled, the way you never made a fuss over anything. When I heard your name was Matthew, I was overjoyed. You'd be my Matthieu. An ever reminder of my favorite wine-sellers." He sighed, "But then they went bankrupt and had to sell the vineyard. Let me tell you, this new wine is nothing compared to the Mathieu's." He took a sip and raised his eyebrows at Matthew. "But it's still pretty good, non?"

Canada put the wine glass to his lips and closed his eyes. The almost fruity aroma flooded his nose, making him a little dizzy. He tipped the glass. The red liquid rushed into his mouth. Automatically, the alcohol covered his tongue in a delicious rush of flavor. He could taste a tiny hint of grapefruit against the bitterness. It left a burning trail down his throat as he swallowed. France was right, it was excellent. Canada smiled as he pulled the glass away.

Francis chuckled at he Canadian's face. "See? I knew you'd love it."

And so the Frenchman and the Canadian drank until midnight laughing and sharing embarrassing stories.

"Alfred's such an asshole! I mean like we're brothers, you'd think he'd have the decency to acknowledge me after all the time's I've saved his ass, eh?" Canada said in a slightly slurred voice. It was so nice to be able to open up to somebody who wasn't a bear.

"I know exactly how you feel. Well of course, nobody ever forgets about me, but I just feel like nobody ever takes me seriously. I think my ideas are slightly worthwhile, non?"

The Canadian nodded, "Definitely. America thinks that he's so big and important! He thinks that just because he's helped win a few wars he's some kind of hero like in his comic books! I'm sick of it!" Canada smashed his glass down. It shattered everywhere.

France's eyes widened and he tried to calm Matthew down, "Now, Matthieu, no need to break thin-"

Matthew's face was turning bright red, "What about me, huh? What about everything I've ever done for him? And you, France! He wouldn't have won that fucking war if you hadn't helped!"

"Y-yes, I-"

"So why do we let him kick us around? Why should we let him have all the glory, eh? I think we should stand up to him!" Canada yelled. Inside he couldn't believe what he was doing, saying. What if someone heard him? The hotel probably didn't have soundproof walls. He calmed down and put his face in his hands. "I-I'm sorry, Papa. I don't know what came over me."

France knelt in front of him and pulled his chin up. "It's alright, mon cheri. You've had it rougher than us all."

Matthew started crying and looked down. "I-I just wish he'd actually care about me. Like, whenever we talk… its always about him. He never shows any interest in me. Every World Conference, I end up feeling worse about myself. Nobody notices me. Why, Papa? Why?"

France sighed and shook his head. "I don't know. You're such a strong country, much better than any others could ever be. Even me. You are just too sweet and kind. Maybe its because all the kindness in the world is masked by our hatred. Maybe…" Francis leaned in to kiss Matthew. Matthew closed his eyes and met the Frenchman's lips softly. He put his arms around Francis's neck while Francis rocked him gently.

To Matthew's surprise, Francis was much more tender than he was usually to other countries. Maybe it was out of sympathy, or maybe Francis truly loved Matthew; it didn't matter. Matthew finally felt like all of his anger and resentment toward Alfred was being washed away. His tense shoulders relaxed, his tears slowly subsided. He had never been kissed like that before. Sure, he'd been kissed, but it was always rough, always hasty. This was smooth and soft.

Of course, all beautiful things come to an end. Soon the Frenchman was on top of Matthew, playing at the buttons on his shirt. The Canadian struggled under Francis, who was, by no means, finished. Off came the shirts, then the pants. All the while France kissed Canada passionately. The Frenchman's hand went down to the Canadian's boxers when suddenly the door burst open. Light flooded into the room and a silhouetted figure stood in the doorway. Prussia.

"Hey, Francis! I like totally found this awesome beer at the liquor store down the street and the awesome me and Spain wanted to know if you wanna have some with us!" Gilbert yelled, not yet seeing the two on the ground. France's eyes widened and rolled off of Matthew, crashing into the coffee table. A flower vase fell on the floor and glass shattered everywhere. Matthew grabbed around for his clothes but couldn't find them. Gilbert took a step forward and asked a little shakily, "Francis? Everything okay?"

"Shit!" the Frenchman whispered as he tried to find his clothes in the dark. Tiny shards of glass cut into his in Canada's skin, warm blood began to trickle down his arms and hands. Prussia turned the corner.

"Hello? Francis? Are you there?" he asked. His hand reached toward the light switch.

"Ah, yes, hello, Gilbert! I was just, um, going to get a little midnight snack. I'll be right there!" Francis called out wincing at his lie. The light turned on. Gilbert stood staring at the half naked Frenchman and Canadian on the ground. His mouth moved but no words came out.

Matthew looked down in shame. How could he have let this happen? Why the hell had he accepted Francis's invitation?

Gilbert zeroed in on Francis. "What…the…FUCK ARE YOU DOING TO MATTHEW?" His face turned bright red as he jumped onto the Frenchman. He started punching his jaw and yelling profanity. "NASTY PIECE OF SHIT!" he had to have yelled at least five times, and "FUCKING PERVERT!" was also a popular one. Matthew tried to pull the Prussian off of his older brother, but Gilbert was too outraged to notice. He kept on battering his face until Francis was unconscious. He was covered in blood and bruises. Luckily, countries could heal fairly fast.

Gilbert glared at Canada and dragged him out the door. He slammed the door shut once they were in the hallway and faced the Canadian. "WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU DOING IN THERE WITH HIM? YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT HE CAN'T HELP HIMSELF! YOU SHOULD HAVE KNOWN THAT _THAT_ WOULD HAPPEN!"

"H-he in-invited me o-over f-f-for din-"

The Prussian started shaking the Canadian's bare shoulders. "YEAH DON'T YOU KNOW WHAT DINNER MEANS IN HIS LANGUAGE? IT MEANS YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO HAVE SEX! WELL IN YOUR CASE IT GIVES HIM THE RIGHT TO RAPE YOU!" Gilbert exploded.

"N-no, y-you don't understa-"

"WHAT, I DON'T UNDERSTAND THAT YOU WERE STUPID ENOUGH TO ACTUALLY TRUST THAT PERVERT? YOU KNOW HE DOESN'T HAVE CONTROL, ESPECIALLY WHEN HE'S WITH SOMEONE AS ADORABLE AS YOU!"

"I-I thought-"

"YOU THOUGHT WHAT? THAT HE MIGHT ACTUALLY HAVE CHANGED? WELL LOOK WHAT YOU'VE GOTTEN YOURSELF INTO NOW!"

Matthew stared angrily into the Prussian's red eyes and pulled away. "Why do you care?" he asked, "If you're _so awesome_ then why are you even talking to me?"

Gilbert's face softened as a light blush painted his cheeks and he whispered, "I-"

Out of nowhere a door swung open and an angry tired-looking China stood with his arms crossed. "Hey, you guys, could you keep it down, aru? Some of us actually are actually trying to sleep."

Matthew remembered he was only wearing his red boxers and slowly inched behind Prussia. The Prussian glared at Wang Yao and said, "Yeah, whatever, we'll be quiet so you can get your beauty sleep, ja?" China rolled his eyes and slammed the door shut. Gilbert sighed and turned around. "Birdie?" he asked as he looked around the hallway, but the Canadian had just snuck away to his own hotel room.

**A.N.~~ Hi! France is...interesting. I've been forgetting to put these thingies lately but I do not own Hetalia, Canada, France, London, wine, Prussia, etc. I'm working on chapter 6 right now! Thanks so much for reading :D  
**

**Also, when Prussia said that dinner=sex in French, I didn't really mean that in real life; it was only for dramatic effect :p  
**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Matthew slid down the door with his face buried in his hands. Everything had been going fine, just fine, and then of course something had to go wrong. It had been going like that for 500 years. Ever since France decided to parade him around Europe and got Britain jealous. That was the only time he felt truly special, like everyone cared about him and knew who he was. Wait, no. That's not true. Canada closed his eyes and remembered the Native Families. Never had they once forgotten his name. Of course, maybe its because he had a very strange name to them. _Matthew_? They had never heard the name "Matthew Williams" before. However, despite his pale skin, blondish hair, and overall European appearance, the Natives welcomed him with open arms. He remembered the day when they found him, even though it was more than 30,000 years before. Matthew let the memories engulf him…

_White. White skies, white ground, white powder raining down from the sky. That's all Matthew could see, perched on the back of his friend Kumajirou. It was cold. So, so cold. Matthew shivered as he clung to his friend's white fur. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he buried his face into his friend's shoulders. He wanted something. Something warm, something that would make him feel happy. Yes, he had Kumajirou, but he wanted something more only he didn't know what. Back where it was green, he would see huge brown creatures with long noses nuzzle their young, like they needed each other. He would watch the small ones nestle closer to their keepers. He saw it all over the place, even with the smaller monsters with long tails and sharp long teeth, so why couldn't he have it?_

_Matthew was young. He was tiny, had giant violet eyes, a chubby face, and long blonde hair. He was unlike anything in the vast amount of land he covered on his seeming meaningless across the endless stretch of land. He had seen giants, small animals that scurry around, strange creatures that could fly, but nothing like himself. He wondered why he was the only one of his kind. Maybe the reason he didn't have what the others had was because he was the only one of his kind. _

_Matthew cried even harder. He felt so empty. So alone. Why was he the only one? There were times when he would ask Kumajirou if he could make him stop breathing so he wouldn't have to feel empty anymore. Kumajirou would only stare at him blankly and shrug his shoulders. Kumajirou didn't understand._

_They kept on walking. Walking, forever walking. Never, ever ending. It hurt, it hurt so much. Never stopping, never stopping. Kumajirou never tired though. He would always keep walking, walking through the soft grass, through the cold water, through the biting snow. Never stopping, never stopping. Always moving forward, forward. But it was Matthew would grow exhausted. His eyelids drooped and sometimes would start to freeze together if he tried to sleep. _

_Matthew reached up to wipe the tears from his eyes. He saw that his fingertips had turned a dark bluish color. Another sob racked his body. He didn't like this. He hated this. Everything, everything, he hated, hated. He stared up at the gray sky and screamed a scream that he had never dreamed of screaming before. It echoed, echoed through the white wasteland. _

_Kumajirou glanced back at the strange thing on his back. He turned back to the invisible trail he walked on. They would get there, they would get there. He could smell it, smell it. _

_Matthew awaited an answer, an answer to his cry. Nothing came. Nothing beautiful, nothing warm, nothing comforting came. He was alone. He looked back down at his blue hands, his blue fingers. He couldn't feel them. They were sleeping, they would never wake up, they were gone. Soon he would be too. _

_ They kept on moving forward, forward. But then Kumajirou stopped. Why did he stop? The bear raised his nose up to the sky and roared. It was a big roar, like from the long tooths. Matthew was scared. He was scared that his friend would try to hurt him. _

_ Kumajirou did not try to hurt him, though. Instead, another roar answered Kumajirous, echoing through the white wasteland. This roar was higher and clearer, different than anything Matthew had ever heard before. What was it? _

_ A dark figure started to appear through the snow wall. Then another. Then another. Soon, strange creatures covered in animal skins surrounded them. What were they? Matthew couldn't really see what they looked like. He imagined they were like the long tooths, with sharp faces and long menacing teeth. He imagined that they had long claws, small, yellow eyes, and hairy faces. They made strange noises to one another. Matthew thought that that was confusing. What were they doing? _

_ Matthew sat there in the snow, waiting for the strange creatures to act. All they had been doing was make those strange noises. Sometimes the noises got really loud and some of them seemed angry. Why were they angry? Matthew looked down. He was making them angry. Maybe, if he went away they would stop making those loud, angry noises. Yes, that's what he would do. He would go away, just like he had wanted. _

_ Slowly, he got off of Kumajirou and tried to sneak away. He didn't want the strange creatures to get angry at him. Slowly, quietly he got down on his hands and knees, the snow burning his skin, and tried to crawl away. A creature saw him and roared. Matthew looked back to see it lumbering over to him. He started to cry and started to crawl faster. He felt the creature get closer, closer. He screamed and buried his face in the snow. The cold, unforgiving ice cut into him, stinging him, hurting, hurting. He tried to take in a breath, but he couldn't. He was going away, away. No one would be angry anymore. He wouldn't have to keep on searching, searching, for that feeling that he would never ever find. He smiled. _

Matthew's eyes flew open. What was he doing? He couldn't bring them back, he couldn't. Those memories brought bad things to his mind. Remembering his old life made it hard for Matthew to live and govern himself. The way the wind sang through the trees, the way the night skies had been filled with countless stars and all those colors, the way the animals and people lived together in harmony… he couldn't bring them back.

The Canadian stood up and stretched. Sunlight shone brightly through the window. How long had he been out? He looked at the clock in the kitchen. It was 9:56. He rubbed his eyes and sauntered over to the bathroom and turned on the shower. He took off his glasses and glanced at the mirror. A thin, pale face with red, tear-stained cheeks stared back. Matthew narrowed his eyes in disgust and took off his shirt. He hated the face he saw whenever he looked in the mirror. It looked so fragile, so weak.

He stepped into the shower. The warm, steamy water cascaded down onto his shoulders, relieving all the stress he carried day to day. He sighed in relief. Everything would get better. Even after the hundreds of years of pain things would start, slowly, to get better. He started to sing a French lullaby, Do L'Enfant Dodo. Whenever Matthew was upset, Francis would cradle him in his arms and softly sing the song. It would always calm him down.

Matthew finished his shower and got out, feeling refreshed and optimistic about the day. He went into his suitcase and brought out flour, eggs, milk, and of course his maple syrup. He also grabbed his red maple leaf apron. He carefully carried all the ingredients to the kitchen and set them down. He pulled on his apron, took a swig from his maple syrup bottle, and got to work. He hummed various songs and even twirled around a few times as he mixed all the items together and flipped them in a pan. Today was going to be a good day, regardless of all the drama that took place yesterday. Finally, they were ready.

Beautiful, golden, fluffy pancakes in towering stacks covered the table; each one drizzled with the precise amount of maple syrup. Matthew smiled and plopped down in front of his masterpiece. There were so many, he considered inviting some people to help him finish. Then he remembered how no one knew who he was. Laughing, he gave in. Today was going to be a good day, he kept on telling himself. Nothing bad was going to happen. Nothing bad was going to happen. Nothing bad was going to happen. Nothing bad was… Matthew stopped mid-chew. Of course something bad was going to happen. When did something bad _not _happen. Matthew swallowed and looked out the window, at the birds flying in the wind. Someday, he'd be free. He got up and started to walk towards it. Someday. He stopped at the ledge. He whispered, "Someday's not soon enough." His fingers brushed the latch. Then, suddenly there was a knock on the door. Matthew sighed and walked over to answer it.


End file.
